


A Collection of Festive Parasites aka Mistletoes

by Tracker_Lucifer



Series: Inception x Venom Crossover [2]
Category: Inception (2010), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Fluffy disjointed collection of stories for the holidays, Inception x Venom Crossover, M/M, There be festive chocolates, character history between Arthur and Eames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tracker_Lucifer/pseuds/Tracker_Lucifer
Summary: “Happy Holidays to us then.”Arthur took the bottle. “It’s June, Mr. Eames.” He reminded him.“Happy Holidays.” Eames persisted.Arthur rolled his eyes before clinking their bottles. “Merry Christmas.”





	A Collection of Festive Parasites aka Mistletoes

**Author's Note:**

> This fluffy(?), festive collection of short stories depicts moments shared between Arthur and Eames. 
> 
> Slight warning, I do make some reference to We Are One but you don't necessarily need to read that story to understand this one (or at least I don't think so). Just keep in mind, this entire story is an Eames x Arthur / Arthur x Eames tale.

Inside the mess hall, a chorus of terrible, off-tune carolers--A.K.A. drunken soldiers--sang their rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas. It was a sight to behold but not a very appealing one. At least not for Richard, who ducked out of the mess hall for somewhere quieter. The spot he chose was the side of the building where the other camps didn’t blocked his view of the sky. 

Dazzlings stars littered the indigo backdrop. It was not something he got to see in the city. He leaned back against the wall and watched the sky. His breath expelled from his lips and rolled in the air in soft clouds. It was cold. Goosebumps covered his exposed arms but the thought of retreating for his jacket made him cringe. Doing so would only put him at a higher risk of being dragged into some offkey karaoke, where he was nowhere near drunk enough for. So he settled with rubbing his arms to gain back the little warmth he could, even if it does make his swollen knuckles ache. 

“So this is where you’re hiding.” A British voice spoke, catching Richard’s attention. 

The British officer strut--literally strut--over with a wry smile on his face, despite the bruise on his cheek that stood out even in the low lights. In his hand was something that had a silvery shine to it but was also wrapped in something else. Something red and fuzzy...

“Why does your flask have a sweater?” Richard asked as he eyed the gaudy thing. 

“So it stays festive and warm, unlike some of the Yanks around here.” The Brit retorted. 

“And the balls?” Richard inquired, lifting his eyes off the offensive thing to look at the man. He startled a little when he realized how close the other man was. 

The Brit didn’t seem to notice as he leaned against the same wall. “Those are mistletoes, Darling. I’m sure you heard of them. Especially in regards to their secret power on this particular day.” He explained with a cheeky smile. “Would you like to see these fine pair in action?” 

“Try it and you would be sporting another bruise to match with your current one.” He nodded toward the man’s cheek. 

“All right, all right.” The Brit held his hands up in defeat and gazed up at the stars. “Beautiful night we have here.” 

“Yeah...” Richard agreed when a chilly breeze passed them by. He rubbed his arms again then he felt some soft and knitted brushed against the back of his fingers. He looked down to see the offer flask. “I’m pretty sure what you have in there does not meet the base’s rules or regulations.”

“But it would keep you warm.” The Brit gently insisted, pushing the flask against Richard’s hand. “If you need an alibi, then just tell them that I coerced you against your will. I’m sure they’ll believe that.”

“They would.” Richard took the flask and a swig. The warmth spread immediately outward from the pit of his stomach. After that came the smooth burn that almost made him sigh in pleasure. The sensation was foreign to Richard, who was used to the grainy feel and intense burn from cheap liquor. This was probably one of those expensive brands... He handed the flask back to the other mant. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Darling.” The Brit took a swig. 

“I do have a name.” Richard pointed out. 

“Oh, I know.” The Brit shot him a sidelong look. “But I don’t think it’s Richard or any variation of that.”

“Really?” He replied with a raised brow, trying to sound skeptical instead of tense. 

“Mmhm,” The Brit hummed with an absolute confidence that put Richard on edge. “Your name might as well be Arthur Pendragon and it would be just as believable.” Those gray-blue eyes met his. “Though in my honest opinion, Darling seemed to be the best name for you.” A slow smile spread on his lips, revealing those charming crooked teeth. 

Richard rolled his eyes and caught sight of approaching Sergeants. “Looks like the party is over.” 

“Well, that’s too bad. I was enjoying the company.” the Brit pouted. 

“You should put that away before you get caught.” Richard pointed out and pushed away from the wall. 

“Don’t worry about me. I never get caught.” The Brit offered him one last smile before walking away. “Have a lovely holiday, Darling.” He gave him a half hearted wave. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Charlie.” Richard retorted then retreated for the barracks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eames groaned as his whole body ached. Slowly, his eyes opened to see his reflection staring back at him. Not to mention the red and white trimmings that framed the mirror along with the mistletoe that dangled in the center.

_Was this a dream?...Was he high?_

“You’re awake.” Eames slowly turned his head toward the voice to see Arthur standing at the threshold of the bathroom. His white sleeves was rolled up to his elbows. Through the fog of the aches and pain, Eames could not help but noticed the reddish stains on that beautifully tailored, white shirt. “Are you still with me, Mr. Eames?”

Eames blinked slowly in a daze and offered a tired, weary smile at the point man. “I never left.” His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. His throat felt like the Sahara and the taste of blood covered his tongue. “If you don’t mind, Darling, some water would be nice.”

Arthur nodded, stepping out of the bathroom and crossed the room where his carry on was on the floor. Next to it was a table where the PASIV sat, along with a couple other items including his SIG. His eyes wandered away from the point man to take in their surroundings. The holiday decor did not stop with the ceiling fixtures. It practically vomited on every inch of this ‘suite’. “Are you feeling rather festive, Darling?”

“It was the only room available.” Arthur pulled a water bottle from his carry on and walked up to him. He twisted the cap off and without being prompted, brought the edge of the bottle to his chapped lips. 

Eames didn’t complain as he took his fill of the lukewarm water. It stung his parched throat but also brought relief throughout his dehydrated system. He peered upward to the point man and noted the minute details he missed earlier. 

As put together as Arthur may appeared, there was signs that spoke differently; strands of hair fell out of place, the slight tremor to his hand that held water bottle, the dark circles under his eyes and the rigid lines to his shoulders. Eames seen this look on Arthur before. This was the look he gets after spending days analyzing, reviewing and vetting a shitty project. Where he is about two steps away from calling the whole job off… 

Has he been in the point man’s care for that long? He didn’t believe so… 

“You’re not new in this line of job, Mr. Eames.” Arthur interrupted his thoughts and took the bottle from his lips. “You should know better than to stand in front of your assailant’s gun.”

Eames let out a sigh. “How bad was it?” He tried to scoot higher on the bed till a firm hand was placed over his chest.

“Probably the best scenario one can hope for when it comes to a gunshot.” Arthur gently pushed him back down onto the bed. “It was a clean shot. Minimal damage. All organs and arteries intact. Your shooter should’ve done a better job.”

“You get what you paid for.” Eames relented and rested back against the bed. “How long have we been here?”

“Not too long.” Arthur replied quickly. A lie. “Nobody knows you’re here.” He assured him while his eyes proudly stated, ‘I made sure of it’. 

His chest felt tight under the point man’s gaze. He swallowed hard and with the little energy that he had, he freed his hand from the covers and placed it over Arthur’s. His fingers curled weakly around the point man’s, feeling the callouses on the man’s fingers and palm. He swore he felt Arthur squeezed his hand. 

“Arthur…” He said, holding the man’s gaze until a soft buzz drew their attention away. Before Eames could stop him, Arthur’s hand slipped away to collect a phone from the table, next to the PASIV. His tired expression seemed to worsen as the corners of his lips pinched just a little tighter. 

“Were you on a job?” Eames asked and Arthur shook his head. 

“No,” He replied shortly, another lie. The point man collected the phone along with his SIG, then strode back to the bed. He set the piece on the nightstand and the phone on his chest. “You should call Sofi back. She might be wondering if you got caught or why you’re not spending Christmas with her.” 

Reluctantly, Eames took the phone that he didn’t want and watched as Arthur walked away. “Arthur…”

The point man pulled a wallet from his carry on. “I need to grab some supplies. If there’s any intruders, then shoot them, got it?“ He grabbed his jacket and slid it on. 

“Affirmative,” Eames replied but Arthur had already left before he could finish. He let out a frustrated sigh and rested his head heavily against the lumpy pillow. He stared up at the mistletoes above him. His finger absently tapped against the phone’s plastic case before lifting it up and unlocking it. 

There were two missed calls from ‘Alexis’ aka Sofi and one missed call from ‘Darling’. He slid his thumb over the dialpad and typed in his code for his call history. His eyes locked onto the name that was on the top of his outgoing call list:

Darling

He swallowed hard then check the voicemail. He ignored Sofi’s messages and clicked on ‘Darling’.

“Eames? I swear to christ, Eames, answer your damn phone! You can’t just call me out of the blue and give me absolutely nothing to work with and expect me to somehow use it! I’m not some mind reader and I certainly do not keep track of your whereabouts 24/7. Despite what other people says, I do have my fucking limits.” His voice sounded strained with frustration and worried.

Eames could imagined Arthur pacing his hotel room or warehouse, mussing up his perfect hair in distress. 

“You know what, fuck it.” Arthur’s voice broke the pregnant silence. “I will find you Charlie. I will find you and kick your fucking ass for this.” He threatened then ended the voicemail there. 

Eames stared at his phone. He doubted that Arthur was even aware that he said his name. The point man must’ve been frazzled to let that cat out of the bag… God, if only he remembered what he said to the other man. Was it incriminating?

_Did it really mattered?_

Eames slid his thumb over the screen and deleted the voicemail. He deleted the other waiting voicemails as well, not bothering to listen to them. He swapped over to his contact list, to Sofi’s name and then deleted that too before setting the phone aside just as Arthur returned. 

“I expected you to be asleep by now.” Arthur locked the door behind him then walked to the table to set the supplies down. 

“Can’t sleep just yet, love. I need to do something else before I go back into the dreamworld.” Eames said, mentally replaying Arthur’s message in his head. 

“Do you need the bathroom?” Arthur asked as he emptied the bag. 

“No,” Eames shook his head. 

Arthur finally turned to him. “Then what?” 

“Just wanted to say ‘Happy Holidays, Darling.” He gave him a weary, tired smile. 

A look of surprise and confusion splashed on Arthur’s face for a moment before he let out a noisy, exasperated sigh. He turned back to his task, his shoulders relaxed. “Merry Christmas to you too, Mr. Eames.” 

Eames’ smile widened as his eyes drifted shut. With one more sigh, he allowed himself to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur cocked his gun as he strode into the abandoned department store. Upon normal circumstances, such lengths was unnecessary for a job assessment. Then again, things had been far from the normal circumstances. Ever since that bastard sold him out, job offers turned into traps, aliases had been burned left and right and his resources had dwindled. The number of people he could turn to had decreased greatly and honestly he couldn’t blame them. The last time he checked the boards, his head was worth a quarter of a million and the numbers only grew. After all, who would want to miss on an opportunity to walk through this point man’s mind and see just how much he knows?

So while his behavior may be unusual, he had his reasons. 

He swept through the perimeter with caution. His fingers flexed around the grip as he searched every corner and every blind spot. The building itself was a considerable size with remnants of what the store used to contain. There were dusty mannequins scattered about like a murder scene. Boxes were ransacked of their contents while the useless trash remained. Graffiti covered up a good portion of the walls with no indication of anyone trying to remove them. The building must had been deserted for a good while for the city to stop caring. Overall, it was a decent location for a business meeting but it was also a good place to set up a trap. 

He pressed his lips into a thin line as he stepped deeper and deeper into the building. It should get darker the deeper he went but the closer he get to the back of the building the brighter it got. Lights of various color shimmered against the walls with yellow standing out the most. His brows furrowed in confusion as he slowly rounded the corner. 

His eyes widened in surprise. 

In the center of the room, on top of a folding table was a banquet of take out boxes and beer. They weren’t putrid or cold, at least not from what he could tell. The smell was welcoming and mouth watering. His stomach cramped with want but he desperately shook off the need and focussed on the other details rather than the food.

The light source was strung up fairy lights that wrapped around two naked mannequins who were covered up in tinsels. One with an outstretched arm (no hands) had a couple of mistletoes dangling from it. It was horrifying but didn’t diminished his hunger in the least. 

That was until the sound of skittering pebbles brought his instinct to the forefront. He whipped around and aimed his gun at the shadows. Hunger was wiped away and the tension returned. “Show yourself.”

“At ease,” The familiar British lilt felt like a slap across his face. 

_Eames. It was Eames who set this up. Eames that led him to this--_

“Don’t shoot me,” Eames disrupted his thoughts as he stepped into view. In one hand was a folder and another plastic bag. In the other was the familiar SIG. 

“Why do you have your gun?” Arthur asked, his glock remained on the forger. 

“Just in case some trigger happy Yank come at me.” Eames retorted. “Now, why don’t we both lower our weapons and act like normal adults. If you prefer, I can go first.” With an elaborate slow motion, Eames lowered his SIG and holstered it against his hips. “See?”

Arthur eyed his hand before reluctantly lowered his piece. 

“There’s a good boy.” Eames commented. “Come on, before the food gets cold.” He walked passed him toward the makeshift banquet, as if this was a normal day in the office. 

“What is all this?” Arthur gestured toward the set up. 

“What do you think it is?” Eames set down the additional bag of take out and the folder onto the table. “It’s the celebration of the holidays.”

“Last time I remember, Christmas was in December not June.” Arthur walked closer to the set up. His eyes lingered toward the food and felt the cramp again. 

“The holidays live inside of all us. It shouldn’t be limited to just a single day of the year.” Eames tossed a glance in his direction. “Sit. Eat. There’s plenty for the both of us.” He gestured toward the seat across from him. 

Arthur looked at the chair and then at Eames who already was making himself a plate. Hesitantly, he sat across from the forger. He set his glock down and warily took the offered plate from the other man. “Eames, what is this?” He asked again.

“A business meeting.” Eames replied. “You should try the duck. It’s fantastic.” He snatched an egg roll from another container.

Arthur made no move for the duck or the rest of the food. Instead he looked around their perimeter again, watching for any shifting shadows. “Then where is the rest of the team?”

“I am hoping you would help me with that.” Eames stated, with a smile. “Think you’ll be up for it?” 

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “You are well aware of my current status, right?” 

“Ah, yes... I’ve heard quite a lot from colleagues and arch nemesis.” Eames spoke with a gesture of his hand. “But I was never one who believes in rumors. Especially coming from a snake like him.” Eames caught his gaze. “How is Dmitri by the way?”

“Staying the fuck away from me.” Arthur replied and earned a laugh from Eames. It sounded forceful, harsh and mocking but honest. That honesty helped eased the tension from his shoulders. Finally, he reached out for the duck and then the fried rice.“Tell me more about this job.”

Eames gestured with a finger to ‘wait for one moment’ before offering him the folder. He swallowed. “Everything should be in there. If you can’t handle it then I’ll find myself another point man.”

Arthur’s eyes darted to Eames before accepting the folder. He opened the messy dossier then flipped through it’s contents. From what he saw, this wasn’t a job to ease a blacklisted point man back into the business. No, this was to see if the blacklisted point man still had it. “This is all you have?”

“Mmhm.” Eames licked the sauce from his lips. “If you can’t handle it--”

“I’ll take it.” Arthur replied without an ounce of doubt in his voice. 

A slow smile crept on Eames face. “All right then.” He reached across, snatching two beers from the end of the table. He uncapped it and offered one to Arthur. “Happy Holidays to us then.” 

Arthur took the bottle. “It’s June, Mr. Eames.” He reminded him.

“Happy Holidays.” Eames persisted. 

Arthur rolled his eyes before clinking their bottles. “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~~~~~~~

San Francisco lit up like a Christmas tree the moment it turned 6 PM, which was ridiculous in Eames’ mind but when in Rome… The engine purred between his legs as he rolled up to a deserted spot that overlooked the city. He kicked down the stand, killed the engine and took off his helmet for a better view. His breath slipped pass his lips as soft, white wisps that danced in the air before they faded away.

The holidays was approaching fast and the Mark was expecting him home soon. If he was an honest man, then he would be home already with the Mark and the devil known as Mr. Belvedere. Except Eames was not an honest man and there were more important things he wanted to do.

He looked away from the buildings and pull his burner phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts and clicked on ‘Darling’ before pressing the phone against his ear. He listened to the rings as he took in the view. 

“Mr. Eames.” A weary, annoyed voice answered the line. “What did I do to deserve this unwarranted call?” 

“By being the absolutely, lovely creature that you are.” Eames retorted. “Dont act so sour, love. We both know you’re off the clock. You need time to recover from working with a prick like Kirill. You should’ve taken my offer.”

“Your offer came far too late and with the least amount of information I had ever seen.” Arthur retorted. “You know I don’t like surprises.” 

“Does that mean you didn’t appreciate my present?” Eames could not stop the smile from his face. 

“Oh? Was that from you?” Arthur scoffed. “Here I thought there was another person with poor taste. I should’ve figured it out with the obnoxious koozie you chose for the flask.” 

“It’s a jumper, not a koozie.” Eames corrected. 

“A jumper with a pair of red balls hanging from it.” Arthur responded.

“Mistletoes, love. Mistletoes.” Eames corrected again. “I recalled that you looked rather envious of my flask so I figure I might as well get you one of your own.”

“I was never fond of yours to begin with and that was ages ago.” Arthur replied. 

“But you still remember it.” Eames’ smile widened even more. 

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. “Go back to work, Mr. Eames.” 

“Happy Holiday, Darling.” Eames said. 

“Merry Christmas.” Arthur replied.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur watched as a very frisky woman thoroughly assault Eames with her mouth in the middle a crowded shopping center. She was not the Mark or a colleague. Just a stranger, which left Arthur in quite a predicament.

On one hand, Eames had been teasing the point man for _**days**_ since he started Venom’s lessons about the holidays and their humanly tradition. His focussed been mostly on sticky toffee puddings, alcohol and mistletoes. With every opportunity, the forger goaded Arthur whenever he could find a mistletoe being hung outside of hotels, stores or restaurants. Of course, Arthur shot every single opportunity down like a marksman in a gun range. 

This was no different. At least first. Their task was to grab some chocolate because Venom was hungry and threatening to devour Eames’ liver. Simple enough, right? Except this shopping center had set up an instagram hotspot with, of course, a mistletoe hanging from light post in front of some wintry background setting. Automatically, Eames pointed it out to Arthur. Arthur then rejected them and then before either of them could react, a young woman entered the scene and then _this_ happened. 

To be honest, part of Arthur believed that Eames deserved being assaulted by a random woman because he had been very annoying asshole but at the same time this asshole (both the human and the alien) were his. 

He scowled to himself at this dilemma. 

“Sir, would you like a sample?” Arthur turned around to see a teenager holding out a tray of the chocolatier’s Christmas chocolate. This year’s festive treat was a dark chocolate with a black cherry filling in a shape of a mistletoe leaf and berry. He glanced back at the scene, witnessing Eames pulling away from the woman and tried to reason with her. 

“I would love one.” He spoke, as he plucked one of the chocolate from the tray. He unwrapped and popped it into his mouth as he approached his lover and the woman. 

“That is a generous offer, pet, but I must decline.” Eames said. His hands rested on her arms to keep her at bay. 

“You can’t tell me you that you didn’t feel anything from that.” The buxom brunette insisted. 

“Your skills might be impressive but still, I must decline.” Eames reaffirmed before his eyes met Arthur’s. “Darling!” 

Arthur’s fingers wrapped around Eames’ tie and yanked him close till their lips connected. Without any shame and tasting like chocolate, he plunged his tongue passed the forger’s lips. 

The reaction from his lover was immediate. He felt the the slick appendage changed against his, transforming into something more slender, longer and flexible. Arthur swallowed his partner’s heated growl as the firm arms wrapped around him. Nothing about the kiss was innocent and it wasn’t supposed to be. This was after all a statement which Arthur made sure that it was crystal clear for all to see. 

Eventually, he turned his head from the kiss. His lips swollen, eyes darkened and cheeks flushed. “Lets go before they run out of chocolate.” He sounded a little winded but still held himself with poised and graced as he led Eames away from the scene by his tie. 

The forger obediently followed behind him. Absently, licking his lips from the chocolate stains that Arthur left on him. He widened his steps to leaned close enough to brush his lips on the edge of the point man’s ear. “Please tell me there’s more to our present than just that.” He rasped. 

“Depends if you guys give me a reason that you deserve more.” Arthur said and felt Eames’ hands framed his hips. 

“I’ll give you all the reasons in the world.” He whispered into his ear. 

“Well…” Arthur tossed a look over his shoulder with a slanted smirk. “I guess it’ll be a happy holiday for us all then.”


End file.
